


King of Underground

by Patchouli (lifelesslyndsey)



Series: Brothers Grim [8]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Diego POV, M/M, Pseudo-Incest, Rimming, adoptive incest, im not sorry at all, no beta we die like men, thigh job
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 20:11:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18213035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifelesslyndsey/pseuds/Patchouli
Summary: It’s just --- Well, Klaus is a good example of what it’s just, maybe too good of an example at times. Maybe a perfect example of why Diego didn’t go too wild. It’s not a vilification, it’s just an observation, and Diego would be lying if he said sometimes...he wished he could be more like Klaus, even nose-deep in drugs and disaster.  Sometimes Diego wished he’d lost it a little too. Wished he’d really fucking let go. If Diego went wild, Klaus went feral.Klaus had set himself free.





	King of Underground

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't go into this intendeding to write porn. this was gonna be rated T and then Diego was thinking about Klaus ass and idk.  
> Here you go, you fucking sluts. 
> 
> Also - I love when y'all pull quotes from the story and tell me what you thought. I LOVE IT. Let me know what you loved?
> 
>  
> 
> Title from Edge Of Town by Middle Kids
> 
> I got all muddled up and journeyed to the edge of town  
> And then the road cracked open  
> Sucked me in, then I went down  
> Now standing face to face  
> With the king of the underground  
> Some things just don't add up  
> I'm upside down  
> I'm inside out

Diego stands there - stunned and sticky. 

 

Hard, and dizzy. 

 

_ Slut. Slut. Slut.  _

 

It isn’t that he wants to be a slut, it’s not. Diego’s never been the sort to run around. Sure, he’s had his fun. He’d gone a little wild when he’d left the mansion, honestly. But just...just a  _ little  _ wild. 

 

It’s just - 

 

It’s just --

 

It’s just --- Well, Klaus is a good example of what it’s  _ just _ , maybe too good of an example at times. Maybe a perfect example of why Diego didn’t go  _ too  _ wild. It’s not a vilification, it’s just an observation, and Diego would be lying if he said sometimes...he wished he could be more like Klaus, even nose-deep in drugs and disaster.  Sometimes Diego wished he’d lost it a little too. Wished he’d really fucking let go. If Diego went wild, Klaus went  _ feral _ . 

 

Klaus had set himself  _ free _ . 

 

Klaus had...Klaus had rebelled violently and with much enthusiasm...He’d jumped right off the deep-end and swam so far away from Father and his precepts, he’d come out a rabbit hole of booze and pills,  blissfully emancipated from all the barbs and tethers their childhood had snared them with. Klaus -  _ did not give a shit _ . 

 

Diego wants that. He wants that so fucking bad. To give in, not care, abandon  _ everything  _ that’s ever hurt him.  To just...to just feel  _ good _ . And to chase those things that make him feel good. To live a life proving nothing to no one, to not be dictated by the words of a ghost, by the standard of a man who could never be pleased. And Klaus had--- Klaus had seen it in him somehow. But then - Klaus was always good for that. Klaus could find a weak spot in a person like a hawk found a mouse, and he could swoop and snatch it just as fast. Klaus had seen the weakness in him, the terrible hungry want, and he could have just as easily destroyed Diego with it, but he didn’t. 

 

Diego doesn’t understand why he doesn’t. 

 

Sometimes. 

Sometimes. 

Sometimes...Diego wishes he would. 

 

How terrible a thing - to crave that kind of destruction. And Diego knows it’s because he can’t do it himself. He’s not strong enough. He’s not brave enough.  He didn’t always look at Klaus and see bravery, not at all, no, nothing so easy. But he sees it now. He sees what it must have taken to cast himself out, to rip himself off like a limb from everything he knew. From the comforts of home, even if those comforts were minimal and cold at best.  Diego clings to the comforts of his childhood - playing hero, saving lives. He’ll never give it up, and it’ll never be enough and for all that he knows that, it still fucking  _ hurts _ .  Klaus accepted no fallback into his life, no safety net. He stepped out the doors of the Umbrella Academy and never looked back. Would rather sleep in a gutter than ring that bell.  He said no, no thank you, never again, and that, Diego thinks, was  _ brave _ . Brave to do it, brave to maintain it even when it might kill you.  It would have killed a lesser man. It would have killed Diego. 

 

But somehow - Klaus grew from it. Diego would like to think it was with the help of his brothers and sisters, but he knows, this...this is just another thing Klaus did all on his own.  Sobriety. Clarity. The hardness in his eyes that a year they'll never know him for bruised into place. They’re all haunted by their past, every single one of them. Luther, Allison, Five, Vanya, Diego - they are fucking haunted by their childhoods and the lives they fucked up all on their own. 

 

Klaus is haunted by everything else, but  _ never  _ by the choices he’s made. 

 

Diego wants that. 

He wants to own his life like that. 

 

And so Diego stands there, stunned and sticky and harder than he’s ever been in his fucking life.  And he makes a choice, a frightening, bright, terrible, dark, twisted, unhealthy,  _ good  _ choice to chase the things that make him feel good. To let himself have this thing...this one good thing. Klaus...Klaus will never ask anything of him. Klaus will  _ never  _ think he’s not enough. Klaus doesn’t care if he’s number one, or number one-hundred. Klaus doesn’t give a shit about Sir Reginald’s world, doesn’t expect Diego to play by their fathers rules. He’ll never be as free as Klaus, he’ll never cut himself away but...

 

But it might be nice to just...pretend, once in a while. 

He thinks that might be okay, sometimes.

 

It might be okay. 

 

It doesn’t feel brave. It feels selfish. It feels selfish, reckless, greedy---

 

It feels  _ so fucking good.  _

 

***

 

Diego comes downstairs, several hours later. He’d waffled in the bathroom for a solid fifteen minutes, knowing that he should absolutely shower but...really just...not wanting too.  

 

Klaus wouldn’t. 

 

Klaus  _ hadn’t _ , actually. Klaus had wandered downstairs without so much as stopping to wash his hands.  Klaus, with spit and come in his beard, and a spring in his step. 

 

So... Diego compromises. Washes his face. Brushes his teeth. Ignores his hair and the strip of his stomach where he’d made a mess of himself. And wanders downstairs. 

 

Klaus is seated at kitchen table, cross legged in his chair. Ben, by contrast, is perched on the counter, curled over a little, like if he makes himself small, maybe no one will notice him.  Diego bumps into him accidentally-on-purpose as he passes, just a soft little acknowledgment, no eye contact, and drops down in the chair across from Klaus. 

 

“Late night?” Klaus asks, all light and absent as he peers at Diego from behind a newspaper. “We didn’t hear you come in and we were up---When  _ did  _ we get to bed, Ben? Eleven? Two? Four?” 

 

“Yes,” Ben agrees, very ambiguously, as he inspects a blueberry bagel held between two fingers.  They’d always been like that, always played off each other, always covered for each other without so much a blink between lies. They weren’t so much in each others pockets, as they were in a pocket no one else could breech. 

 

Diego thinks...he might be in that pocket now. 

 

“About six or so,” Diego admits, though a lie does consider itself on the tip of his tongue.  Klaus doesn’t care though, he reminds himself. Klaus doesn’t care when he left, when he came back, or what he did while he was gone. 

 

“Hmm.” Klaus shakes his newspaper and hums to himself, and the indifference is...grating, in a strange way. A keen, needling way. The others always have something to say - that his vigilante nonsense is getting kind of old (Allison), that he should at least have a partner (Luther), that he should---

 

Klaus just makes fun of his turtle necks. 

 

Diego smiles, and grabs an apple from the basket on the table. It’s too early for dinner, to late for lunch, but he’s hungry 

 

“I have a job interview later,” Klaus announces, folding his newspaper into an awkward triangle and throwing it over his shoulder. It flutters, and sways, flopping in a mad mess near the door where someone (probably Luther) will slip on it later. 

 

“It’s not a job interview,” Ben laughs, cheeks chipmunked with bagel. He kicks his legs a little, and takes another bite before swallowing the last. Diego doesn’t call him on it. He’s hasn’t had the luxury of eating for something like fourteen years. “It’s a _ cold call. _ ” 

 

“Are you saying they won’t take me back, Benny Boy? As I recall  - I was quite good.” He waggles his brows in a ridiculous manner, un-selfconscious to the constellation of his face and how it configures itself at any moment.  Klaus never cares if he looks ridiculous. Diego sometimes gets too nervous to smile. “Anywho, you wanna come? Both of you?” 

 

“Hard pass.” Ben wrinkles up his nose. He has cream cheese on his cheek. If Klaus isn’t going to tell him, Diego won’t either. “Too fucking loud.” 

 

“Where are we going?” Diego finds himself asking, accidentally agreeing to go without even meaning too. 

 

“ _ Don’t tell him,” _ Klaus says in a rush, when Ben opens his (still full) mouth. “He won’t want to come.” 

 

“Well now I definitely don’t want to come.” Except that’s a lie. Now he’s vaguely (desperately) curious to know what kind of place is both loud and would hire Klaus. 

 

(It should be obvious. But it is not.)

 

“Well, I need to go wax everything from the neck down,” Klaus says, brightly. He slaps the table, and pushes himself up, chair scraping harshly against the hardwood. “I’ll see you in four hours. Wear your sex harness.” 

 

“I don’t have a---” But Diego knows what Klaus is talking about, and he sighs. “It’s not a sex harness!” 

 

“Re-purposed sex harness, sorry,” Klaus waves an airy hand.  He’s mostly out the door when he stops, bending backwards at the waist to peer back into the kitchen. “Benny, my buddy, my brother, my boy---” 

 

“I’m not waxing your asshole.” Ben doesn’t so much as look up from his second bagel. “Figure it out.” 

 

Klaus blinks at him with big, grey eyes and a spectacular pout. “Baby bo----” 

 

“Yeah,  no,” Ben cuts him off, flat and even and no-nonsense. “Gonna stop you right there. Hard no. Firm no. Wax your own ass.” 

 

“Don’t think I can’t, “ Klaus mutters, eyes drifting over to Diego. “I could  _ lick  _ my own asshole if I wanted. With a little bit of practice. Little yoga. I’m very flexible, you know.” And then he’s gone, just like that, leaving a searing mental image embedded in Diego’s brain. 

 

Diego waits exactly...twelve seconds...to ask. “Has he ever actually---” 

 

“No,” Ben snorts, having finished all of his bagel. He eyes Diego’s apple, like there isn’t a fucking bowl of them, but Diego caves all the same, tossing it to him across the table. Ben hums, and rolls it between his palms. “He can suck his own dick though,” he adds like an afterthought. Diego would be more inclined to believe the innocence in his voice, in his absent little smile if Ben didn’t spend so much fucking time with Klaus. 

 

Diego fucking believes it when Klaus says Ben’s a  _ good boy.  _

Ben’s doing exactly what Klaus wants him to do. 

And doing a very good job of it. 

He’s fucking with Diego. 

_ Great _ . Christ. Fuck.  

 

Diego should have stayed in bed. 

 

***

 

It’s three hours later, three hours of Diego ignoring every thump and bump coming from Klaus room  (not imagining what he could be doing to create such a series of consistent noises), when there’s a knock on his door. 

 

Klaus doesn’t wait for any response on his part, just steps right into Diego’s room. He’s got a towel around his waist, a pair of pants in one hand and a white plastic bottle of...

 

“Is that baby powder?” 

 

“Yes, I stole it from Allison. I need your help.” He jiggles the plastic container, faintly, sending a shimmery mushroom cloud puff into the air. “PVC requires four hands and Ben refused to help.” 

 

“PVC---” Klaus rattles the pants, rabbiting right into Diego’s space, into Diego’s room. “So like - Ass or crotch, how we gonna do this?” 

 

“I---” Diego has no idea what’s happening here, but a vague sensation that he’s invited this chaos into his life. “I have no idea what you mean.” 

 

“Which one do you want in your face?” Klaus asks, stoutly, throwing the bottle and the pants onto Diego’s bed. “You know - like when  you’re shuffling past people in a movie theater and you gotta make that choice. Are they getting ass or crotch? Only I’m letting you decide. Because I’m very generous.” 

 

“I don’t want to decide.” Diego wants to know what’s fucking happening and why Klaus would invest himself in any kind of pants that require assistance to wear.  Except that’s not what Klaus reads from the situation or Diego’s face, deciding instead that it means he gets decide.” 

 

“Alright.” He claps his hands, rubbing goodbye and hello together with a vicious grin on his face. “Ass it is.” 

 

And then he whips off the towel. 

 

Diego---Diego doesn’t look away. Which would probably be the normal, the healthy, the  _ reasonable  _ response to seeing your brothers dick.  But then, he’s already made the conscious decision to follow the things that make him feel good and he thinks...

 

Well. 

 

Whatever happens here, Diego’s probably going to enjoy it. 

 

“Wow,” he says, after far too long a pause. Klaus doesn’t even squirm under the scrutiny, perfectly confident in nothing but his skin. “You really did wax everything.” 

 

“Even my asshole,” Klaus says, with a bright laugh. He flicks a joint free from behind his ear and holds it up and throws his naked ass down into Diego’s, throwing both legs up over the arm. “Give me a minute, I’m gonna need to smoke this before I have enough balls to put my balls in those.” He tips his head toward the bed. “They’re a fucking nightmare.” 

 

“Why---Why wear them?” Diego has seen Klaus is some pretty explicit clothing, tight things, things that lace, things made of lace, things made of two bandaids and a rubber band.

 

“You’ll find out.” He extends his arm, holding out the joint and it’s not so much a challenge as a genuine offer. 

 

There’s no reason not too, so Diego accepts. He doesn’t cough like he had the first time, or the last time, and he makes a show of blowing a one ring, and then another, into the air between them. Klaus blows him a fucking kiss in return. “You jerk off after I snowballed you with Ben’s come?” He asks, blowing smoke with every word and Diego is so caught off guard by the nonchalant question he does cough, on nothing but his own tongue. 

“I---I----” 

“I wanted you too.” He takes another hit and holds it in his lungs so long, Diego’s burn in sympathy.  

 

“Yes,” Diego manages, accepting the joint again from where it’s pinched between Klaus long, thin fingers. He shakes as he takes his hit, and takes his seat, sprawling back on the bed. He doesn’t look Klaus in the eye, as he pushes up his shirt. He still has come in the trail of hair leading down from his navel. “I didn’t even shower.” 

 

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Klaus isn’t trying to sound sexy. There’s no coy curl to his voice, nothing sweet, nothing saccharine. He sounds  _ impressed _ , and that -  _ that-  _ that makes Diego’s fingers clench in the fabric of his shirt. “You have my come in your hair.” 

 

“That---that was yours?” He manages some semblance of evenness in his voice, like they’re not talking about whose home is where, like they’re not brothers, like Diego hadn’t desperately wanted to lick his own spit off Klaus face only a handful of hours ago. He takes another hit, longer and deeper, and sees Klaus smile a little. 

 

“Benny finally let me blow him.  He wasn’t really in a place to get me off once I was finished, and I wasn’t patient enough to come find your pretty face so I could come on it.” He delivers every devastating word with the same conversational tone people use to talk about a new gym or a particularly good restaurant. 

 

Diego swallows, and shakes his head when Klaus leans forward to pass the joint back. He should---Say something. Do something. Anything but sit there like a fucking idiot, wordless and wide-eyed.  He knows what he wants - he’s not entirely comfortable with it but he wants it all the same. He wants Klaus to tell him what to do, to put his hands on him. He wants to get on his knees and blow Klaus right now.  _ He wants too. _ He just doesn’t know how to say it. How to put it out there. How to take the leap. Make it happen. Shit. “We should ---- Your pants.” 

 

Klaus looks...disappointed. Not overtly, and maybe not at all. Maybe it’s just Diego projecting, maybe he just expects Klaus to be disappointed. But he sees it all the same, and it makes his stomach clench in a significantly fun way.  He unfolds himself from the chair and turns, the curve of his spine, the smooth pale expanse of his back all very distracting. “Grab my pants, would ya?” Diego does, handing them over wordlessly. Klaus bites the joint between his teeth. “Gonna need both my hands.” All Diego can do is watch, as Klaus first steps into the pants, and pulls the stretchy, sticky looking fabric up his pants. “Powder me, princess. This is a process.” 

 

So Diego does - shaking hands puffing out powder between Klaus legs like his ass isn’t  _ right  _ in Diego’s face. It would be so easy to touch him. Klaus wouldn’t say no.  All Diego has to do is touch him. Just reach out and fucking tough him, hands on his waist, anything at all. Something. 

 

He’s frozen, stuck, stuttering around in his own fucking mind. 

 

Klaus pulls the pants up a little higher, gets them to his knees before they get stuck again. “Shitting fuck bags,” he mutters, hopping from one foot to the other - and it makes his ass jiggle, just a little. Klaus doesn’t have much to jiggle, has always been lean and tight. But his ass has a little bit of give to it that the rest of his body does not. Not much, just a little, nothing like a woman's, Diego probably has more going on (he does squats) but it’s enough to make his palms itch, enough to make his mouth dry. “Can you - just pull them up in the back maybe? If I can get them to my thi---” 

 

He just means to touch. He really just means to touch, but his hands are shaking and he’s too fucking rough. Something about Klaus has always made him itch for violence. And so instead of touching, he knocks Klaus forward into the chair. He lands with his knees on the cushions, toes stretching to reach the carpet. “Buddy,” Klaus says, somewhat carefully, around his joint. “Diego?” 

 

Diego---makes a noise. It’s not words, not at all, just something visceral and broken. He settles trembling hands on Klaus’ rib cage, lets them float down to his hips, lets his thumbs dig hard into the give of his ass cheeks. “I---” He still can’t fucking say it though.  _ I want to--- I want you---- _

 

Let it never be said that Klaus has no empathy. He takes pity on Diego with a curve to his spin, a push to his ass that’s new and telling. “Yeah?” He says, taking the joint from his mouth and dropping it directly on Diego’s rug. He settles his elbows on the back of the chair. “So...Ass was a good choice?” 

 

Diego’s not really thinking about anything. Not the teasing little spice in Klaus’ voice. Not the unlocked door. Not the cherry burning a hole through the carpet fibers.  He’s not thinking of any of those things when he lets his hands wander a little farther, chasing the heat that curls in his belly. He’s not thinking of the way Klaus can’t spread his legs any farther, trapped in his stupid pants, even as Diego spread his ass cheeks. 

 

Klaus makes a noise, just as feral as Diegos, and pushes his ass out more, into the biting grip of Diego’s hands. “Fuck,” he says, and Diego watches his pink little asshole fucking flutter. “ _ Jesus Christ.”  _

_ Sorry _ , Diego thinks. “I want to fuck you,” Diego says, the disconnect between mind and mouth flayed wide open by the rosy little wink of Klaus asshole. Fuck. 

 

Klaus jerks with his whole body, rearing back enough to grind up against Diego’s dick. “I don’t have the patience that will require. I could suck your dick instead?”

 

But no - Diego wants to watch his dick disappear between Klaus round little ass cheeks and it’s such a violently new thought, there’s no room for anything else in his brain.  _ Off the deep end _ . “Can I fuck you like---”He has to say it, if he wants it to happen. He has to choose it. He has to mean it. “Like - in the hallway. You asked Ben. You told Ben----” God. He can’t fucking say it. He grinds up against Klaus ass instead and God---

 

He’s fucked people. He’s fucking fucked a number of people. Admittedly, all women. None of them his brothers. But this---just feels so fucking good. Grinding up against his brothers little ass, dick trapped behind denim, behind cotton - feels better than getting balls deep in actual pussy. What the actual fuck. 

 

“Oh God, I don’t even remember what I said,” Klaus admits, sounding a little winded and a thrill runs through Diego. He did that. He made Klaus sound like that. “What did I even---It doesn’t matter. Holy shit - it doesn’t even matter. Just get your dick out and do whatever, holy fuck.  _ Come on me. _ ” 

 

Diego shakes all over, has to stop himself with his hand on his zipper and breath. He won’t come in his pants, he’s not that easy, but there’s nothing to say he won’t come the second his dick so much as grazes Klaus’ pale skin.  He eases himself out, shoving his jeans down to his thighs and the first fucking press of skin to skin----

“Between my thighs,” Klaus tells him which sounds like a fantastic fucking idea honestly. “Come all over my balls” 

 

_ “Oh my God.”  _

 

It’s a little dry, a little rough, but even that bite of pain makes it feel so good. Klaus is pushing back, content to give back as good as he gets and Diego can’t keep a good grip on him, no on his hips, not on his shoulders, so he grabs him by the hair and fucking  _ yanks _ . 

 

“Oh fuck,” Klaus says, breathless and faint. “That’s not---that’s not fair.” He pulls against Diego’s grip and fucking groans and shakes and drops a hand from the back of the chair to ---

 

Diego’s a little embarrassed at how much he’s just straight up fucking dripping between Klaus thighs. His fingers bite too hard into the curve of Klaus hip, and pull to hard at the curls of his hair and he fucks too rough into the space provided, knocking Klaus into the back of the chair, knocking the chair into the wall and the velvet does nothing to dull the thud but Diego---cannot---fucking---stop. 

 

“God---fucking---dammit,” Klaus hisses, teeth rattling. “You fucking---you fucking slut. I thought---I really fucking thought until you were ready to get your fucking dick out for me, I’d have to wait for you to grow some fucking balls but you’re just fucking gagging for it, aren’t you?” His knees slip against the velvet cushion, and he loses his leverage as Diego slams into him, plastered up against his back. “Jesus ---You were fucking wet for it, weren’t you? Look at you, you really are a fucking whore for it----Oh, fuck shit, oh shit, oh shit---” 

 

The new angle changes something, Diego doesn’t have the mental capacity to understand the physics - but instead of pressing up against Klaus balls, he’s fucking up against the tight furl of his asshole and he can feel it clench against the head of his dick---

Diego fucks forward with a little too much enthusiasm, kneels bracketing Klaus now on the cushion. Klaus barely has time to get his arm up against the wall before he falls face first into the plaster, and he still hasn't’ fucking stopped talking, he’s still spitting out vitriol and acid---

 

“---you really are a fucking slut---” 

 

“---all over my asshole---” 

 

“---make you fucking lick it up, you disgusting piece of---” 

 

And that’s all it really fucking takes for Diego to lose it, spilling hot and wet right between Klaus ass-cheeks. It tears out of him so fast and hard, he feels three fucking vertebrae pop in his spine and he’s still not thinking when he drops to his knees and buries his face right between Klaus ass. 

 

“You beautiful, filthy fucking--- oh my God, Diego,  _ holy shit _ \---” 

 

Rim-job, his mind supplies helpfully. He’s giving Klaus a rim-job. He’s licking his own come off Klaus asshole. Klaus, who is pushing back, riding Diego’s face and it’s so fucking--- so fucking raunchy. So fucking nasty, that Diego’s not sure he ever actually went soft.  He’s certainly not soft when Klaus abandons his own dick in favor of holding himself wide open so Diego can get deeper. 

 

Come and spit slip through his beard, painting trails down his chin and throat and it’s vile, it’s awful, he’s already dripping come over his own thighs. He eats at Klaus ass the only way he really knows how - like a pussy - and Klaus is apparently  _ fucking here for it.  _

 

It’s disgusting. He’s disgusting. This is --- this is fucking filthy. 

 

“I’m gonna come,” Klaus says, hips rabbiting forward and back against nothing and the push of Diego’s face. “Oh God, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna---” 

 

Diego thinks _ I should touch him.   _

 

Diego touches him. 

 

Klaus  _ screams _ . He comes so hard he slips straight from the chair. Diego catches him, but only barely, both arms coming to grab him around the waist. They both tumble back in an ungainly sprawl and then it’s just Klaus ass- dripping fucking wet- pressed snug against Diego’s sensitive, hard dick. He doesn’t mean to pull Klaus tighter, doesn’t mean to fuck up into the mess ---- 

 

He’s just chasing what feels good. He can’t fucking stop. 

 

He bites Klaus shoulder, sinks his teeth in so deep he feels the skin pop and give, as he comes, dick catching the rim of Klaus asshole, the fluttery clench of it turning everything white and electric. 

 

***

When he comes back to himself, his teeth are still buried in Klaus shoulder, and Klaus is still tangled in his stupid fucking pants. He’s boneless in Diego’s lap which, a gangly sprawl of limbs and sweaty skin. 

 

“You are....You are really good at that,” Klaus manages to say and Diego feels it all over his body. “You are just like---I really thought I was going to have to ease you into ass fucking but you’re just---gonna jump right off the deep end, aren’t you buddy?” 

 

“This wasn’t fucking,” Diego argues, because Diego’s reflex is to argue with everyone, unfortunately. To recoup, he licks the bruised, tender looking bite mark on Klaus shoulder, and smiles against his skin.  Hopes and fucking prays Klaus is too fucked out to notice how fucking awkward Diego is. “When I fuck you, you’ll know it.” 

 

He’s always known that sometimes doing the right thing won’t always be easy. But he never imagined doing the wrong thing would feel so good. He imagines, as he watches his own come drip down Klaus’ thighs as his brother stands before him - this is how super villains are made. It feels good though. And he can’t stop. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> please tell me what fic it was I read 'repurposed sex harness' from I need to know and credit.


End file.
